Art: Bronze Mirrors

Augustus Saint-Gaudens, Henry Adams remarked, "was a child of Benvenuto
Cellini, smothered in an American cradle." Saint-Gaudens certainly
lacked Cellini's proud fire; in his prime he was a jovial,
auburn-bearded member of 15 clubsa frock-coated good fellow of the
sort that two world wars have made as nearly extinct as the
buffalowho roared out popular ballads while he worked, and finished
the day with dinner at Delmonico's. And unlike the supremely articulate
Florentine, Saint-Gaudens simply could not talk about art; he was
afraid, he explained, that he would say "some damphool thing."